Mr Brightside
by GALEXY-ff
Summary: This isn't the first time this has happened. It probably won't be the last either, but right now Josh's arm is warm and makes the aching in Chris' chest dull to a throb. And that's enough for now. Basically, Chris is jealous, even though they aren't technically in a relationship. I needed to write some Angst. Sue me.


Chris was used to Josh's games by now—six months of living together made his roommates mannerisms pretty clear. He stood out on the balcony of their one-bedroom smoking right now. Chris wiped his hands on his sweatpants, folding the omelet he made in the skillet.

The door to the bedroom creaked open, the red-head from last night, Ashley, padding out, wearing Josh's button up.

"Oh, Chris, I—"

"He's outside." Chris pointed to the balcony. "Are you hungry? I was just making breakfast."

"Sure." She sits at the kitchen table, hands curling around Josh's mug of coffee.

"Oh, there are—"

"I like it like this. If he wants a cup, he can get another one." She took a sip before setting the mug down and stretching her arms above her head. "Man, I'm sore."

They always said that. Chris smiled to himself, sliding Josh's omelet onto a clean plate before asking Ashley want she wanted in hers.

This was the game.

Josh and Chris would go to a club or bar together and try to pick up a girl that would be willing to come home with both of them. It was easier than Chris had originally thought it would be. He'd let Josh do most of the talking. He was just along for the ride for the most part.

Ashley had been last night's joyride.

Josh came back into the front room, the smell of smoke wafting in.

"Aww, you make me an omelet, Cochise?" Josh draped his arms around Chris' shoulders.

Chris folded Ashley's omelet and slid it onto a plate for her. "Of course. Take this one to Ashley."

"You got it." Josh winked, scooping up the plates and walking to a table.

The main rule with sharing was that it was just sharing. Nothing was going on between the two of them. However that song went—not gay if it's in a three way.

At least, that's what Josh always said.

Chris sat down at the table, omelet on his own plate.

Ashley stayed for breakfast, finished Josh's cup of coffee, got dressed, and then left.

Josh went out on the balcony for a second cigarette. Chris did the dishes. Usual Saturday morning.

"So, I was thinking tonight we'd try out that club downtown…What is it called?" Josh sighed, leaning back on the couch while Chris channel surfed.

"Delirium?"

"That's the one." Josh smirked. "What do you say? Wanna pick up a club girl?"

"Last night wasn't enough for you?" Chris settled on Cake Boss before setting the remote down.

"I can go by myself if you don't want to."

Chris felt something in his back tense. He'd never mentioned it to Josh. That was the rule.

"No, I'll come."

"Great, I'm gonna hop in the shower. Pick out something nice for me to wear." He used Chris' knee to help push himself up off the couch before he headed to the bathroom.

Chris' throat felt tight.

Delirium wasn't their usual scene. There were lasers and fog machines and bass pounding behind their ears and in their chests. Chris hated it.

Seeing Josh in his tight leather pants and his black silk button down somehow made it worth this. He'd lined his eyes with gold; appearing more striking in the dark of the club than he had in the light of their apartment.

Josh had dressed Chris in a white button up, pewter vest unbuttoned over it and a pair of distressed jeans. His hair was slicked up in its usual fauxhawk. He'd left his glasses on the bathroom counter. Josh had been trying to talk him into contacts, but he still hadn't made it to the optometrist. Everything was just a little out of focus, but he could still see for the most part.

He didn't know how Josh was supposed to talk to anyone with bass echoing this loud in the room.

Josh was leaned back against the bar, drinking something electric blue that fizzed. Chis wasn't drinking. It was his night to drive.

Josh took a sip, scanning the room before he elbowed Chris.

"What about her?" he nodded and Chris followed his gaze. The girl he was talking about had deep magenta hair and wore a metallic skirt. "She looks like she's down for something wild."

"Maybe too wild," Chris shook his head. "Neither of us are very flexible, man."

"Speak for yourself." Josh rolled his eyes before he went back to scanning the room. He took a few more sips of his drink, lights reflecting off his liner. Chris tapped his fingers against the bar.

"I got it," Josh elbowed him again. "What about her?"

Chris looked, at the end of the bar this time. This one had short black hair and wore an impossibly tiny black dress.

"No, too bitchy. I can tell from here."

"Hmm…you're right." Josh sighed, tossing back the rest of his drink before setting his glass down and stepping a little closer to Chris. Their shoulders brushed. Chris couldn't breathe.

"Maybe you should help me, then." Josh's voice was low in his ear. "You're being picky tonight."

He felt Josh's hand on his lower back. Chris wished they could just go home alone but do the same thing they'd do even if they brought a girl with them. Fall asleep in the tangle of sheets he'd washed this morning. He'd make coffee and omelets while Josh smoked out on the balcony.

Chris cleared his throat, gesturing. "What about her?"

Josh looked over. Her hair was golden, twisted up into a messy bun. She wore a leather jacket over a dark red dress and a pair of combat boots underneath.

Josh whistled and smirked before elbowing Chris in the side. "That's what I'm talking about, Cochise."

"You think?"

"Yeah, go get her."

"What?" Chris turned to look at him. "Me?"

"Yeah, you got this." Josh slapped him on the shoulder. "Bring her over here for a drink."

Then Josh ordered another drink, leaving Chris to his own devices. Chris swallowed thickly, wishing it wasn't his night to drive before he started making his way over to the blonde.

Chris underestimated just how pretty she was.

"I like your jacket." He shouted over the beats.

She turned, smiling. "I like your vest."

"What's your name?"

"Sam." She grinned.

"Chris."

"Can I get you something to drink, Chris?"

"Not drinking tonight, sorry." He grinned. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Sure." She grinned, "But you have to dance with me first."

"Oh, I'm not—"

"Oh, come on." She rolled her eyes, grabbing him by the sleeves and pulling him further out onto the floor. "No one comes to Delirium without dancing, at least a little."

He couldn't help but follow her.

Most of Chris' dance moves consisted of either awkwardly jumping around or dancing like a dad. Thankfully, the beat allowed him to shoot for the former, and Sam seemed fine with that. She jumped along with him, sliding her hands up his chest. He set his hand against her lower back, pulling her in closer. She smiled up at him kissing him hard.

She tasted like cherries.

They were both laughing by the time Chris managed to pull her over to Josh.

"What do you want?" Chris asked, hand against her lower back.

"Um…" She turned and looked at Josh before pointing. "What he's having; a blue shoe."

"Good eye." Josh smirked, sliding closer. "You want to taste it before you order one?"

Sam gave him a look like you could be a total psycho; why would I drink from your potentially drugged glass? Before Chris stepped in.

"Sam, this is my roommate, Josh."

"Pleasure." Sam grinned, taking her own glass from the bar tender. "Thanks, Josh, but I'm a regular here."

"I guess I should become a regular here." Josh finished his drink, sliding his glass back across to the bartender. "That's a very pretty dress."

And then she turns to look at him for the first time and something in Chris' chest snaps.

She relaxes against the hand he has at the small of her back, but now she's just facing Josh, looking at him over the rim of her glass.

Then the two of them are having a conversation that Chris can't make out because of the music. Josh gets a second drink and he and Sam clink their glasses together. Then they're dancing, leaving Chris alone at the bar. He contemplates a drink, but he knows how much Josh hates taking a cab. Plus, he doesn't want to deal with having to come back for the car in the morning. He holds his glass of water, flicking away beads of condensation while he watches them dance.

It's different from how he and Sam were dancing before. Her back is pressed to Josh's chest, and their hips are rocking in beat to the rhythm. He leans down and says something into her ear. She laughs and turns her head, kissing him like she kissed Chris.

This is usually when Josh would look at Chris from across the room and wink. But he doesn't. The two of them stay out on the dance floor for a second song, and then a third—their bodies melding together while the building shakes and the bass thuds behind Chris' ears.

Josh doesn't look up at him and wink.

Chris decides not to look anymore. He turns around and sips from his glass of water, running his thumb along the lip of the glass.

He looks to the end of the bar. The bitchy looking girl from before is talking to some guy in a beat up, brown leather jacket with stubble. He looks like the kind of guy that rides a motorcycle, but also has a girlfriend. Either way, the bitchy girl seems into it, leaning in and grabbing his arm the way Chris has seen dozens of girls do to Josh, but never to him.

No, Chris was always just along for the ride.

Eventually Sam and Josh come back, her arm draped around his shoulder. They're laughing. They each order another drink. Josh still doesn't turn to look at Chris and wink.

After they finish their drinks, Josh's hand slides against Chris' back.

"Do you wanna head back to the apartment?"

Chris looked at Josh then back at Sam before nodding.

"Sure."

The three of them leave. Josh and Sam wait outside the club while Chris walks a block to get the car. When he pulls up, the two of them slide into the back seat, and something else in Chris' chest gets tight. Josh always sits up front with him.

"Can we stop for a pack of smokes?" Josh taps his fingers against his leg. "I'm almost out."

Sam wrinkles her nose and turns to look at Josh. "You smoke?"

"Cigarettes are vegan."

They both laugh, and Chris doesn't know why.

"Yeah, sure." Chris pulls out, heading towards their apartment.

Josh runs into the store, leaving Chris and Sam alone in the car.

Sam doesn't say anything, fingering a loose strand of hair while she stares out the window. Even though it was too loud in the club, Chris wants to turn the radio up to fill the silence.

He doesn't.

Josh comes back a few minutes later with smokes and a pack of condoms.

The elevator ride up to their apartment is only filled with the sound of their breathing and the creaking of the elevator shaft. It's Chris who unlocks the door soberly, tossing his keys in the bowl and flipping on the lights.

"Do you guys want a beer?" Chris turns and asks. Josh is whispering something into Sam's ear. She giggles. Chris' chest hurts.

"Nah, I'm good." Josh has his hand on Sam's hip. "I'm gonna go out for a smoke. Do you need clean sheets for the pullout couch?"

Now Chris' chest really hurts. Like, needle etching against his heart hurts. Like someone just poured gasoline and salt in the fresh wounds before lighting his heart on fire while it's still beating inside him. Hurts.

"No, I changed them the other day."

"Okay, cool." Josh slides open the door to the balcony. Same follows him out, sliding the door shut behind them.

Chris pulls what's left of their six back of IPA out of the fridge before he sinks into the couch and flicks on the television and starts flicking through channels.

He's a few sips into his first beer when he looks over his shoulder out onto the balcony. Josh and Sam are leaned in close, laughing about something before Sam takes a drag of his cigarette. She coughs and hands it back. The two of them laugh some more. Chris turns back to the tv and takes a long drink from his bottle. He starts to peel at the label, flicking through a few more channels, wincing when he passes a movie on lifetime.

By the time he's on his second beer, the two of them come back in, still laughing. The don't say anything to Chris as they head for the bedroom. Chris turns to look right as Josh shuts the door, expecting Josh to turn and wink.

He doesn't.

Chris isn't sure which of them turns on the stereo, but the music is too loud. Their neighbor is going to complain again. It's muffled by the door, but Chris swears he can here clothes hitting the floor. His stomach is twisting while he finishes his second beer.

He cracks open a third, the last one in the pack, but he can't hear the pop of the top over the music. He hears them laughing, though. Hears the springs of the mattress squeaking and the headboard knocking against the wall.

Chris turns the television up and finishes his beer.

At some point, he falls asleep, having not even bothered to pull out the couch. He'd just curled up on his side, barely remembering to kick off his shoes.

When he wakes up, a blanket has been thrown over him.

Chris sits up groggily, not sure what time it is, but the sun isn't up yet. He rubs his eyes, sitting up. When he looks over his shoulder, he sees Josh out on the balcony, dim flicker of his lighter cast a shadow over his face.

Chris debates for half a moment if he should just go back to sleep, but he kind of has to pee. But he doesn't want to go through their bedroom—Sam might still be there.

He settles on wandering out to the balcony where Josh is. The smell of Josh's cigarettes always manages to calm him down, even though he claims to hate it.

Josh doesn't turn when Chris slides open the balcony door. He shuffles out, curling his fingers against the railing.

"How was she?" Chris asks.

"Good." Josh says around his cigarette. He's looking up at the sky, even though you can't see any stars with all the light pollution in the city. "She left a while ago. Took a cab."

Chris nods, a little relieved.

"Sorry about—"

"Don't worry about it, Bro." Chris says, even though that isn't what he wants to say. He wants to scream. "I'll forgive you if I don't have to spend the rest of the night on the couch, though."

Josh nods, still looking at the sky. "Deal."

Chris feels something like a smile cross his mouth. He goes back inside to use the bathroom, strips down to his boxers, and collapses into bed. After a while, Josh comes into the room, crawling into the bed next to Chris, draping his arm over Chris' waist.

This isn't the first time this has happened. It probably won't be the last either, but right now Josh's arm is warm and makes the aching in Chris' chest dull to a throb.

And that's enough for now.


End file.
